Crash Course in Christmas
by Mercury-Moon-7490195
Summary: It's Kesi's first Christmas in Domino City, and she's dragging her dads right along with her. Later in the What-it-Takes universe, Thiefshipping, kidfic.
1. Kesi Learns of Christmas

The door opened as Kesi skipped into the apartment, tossing her backpack onto the chair. "Daddy? Papa? I'm home!"

Marik swore under his breath, hauling himself up onto his elbows. "We're busy hun, just help yourself to a snack, be out in a min—" he bit back a moan as Bakura began to move again, tongue hurrying to get him off.

"Don't rush it," he muttered bitterly, pushing back Bakura's hair from his face. "We've got time."

Bakura cocked an eyebrow, his gaze darting in the direction of the kitchen as he returned to the task at hand with earnest. Marik closed his eyes, smiling as he felt the tension in his stomach snap, warmth spreading through his body as Bakura came up for air, swallowing.

"Mm." Marik smiled, pulling him into a slick kiss. "Thanks."

"You owe me," Bakura replied, taking a sip of lukewarm tea as Marik zipped up his pants.

He nodded. "Later." He said. "I'll get her in bed early tonight." He headed out to the kitchen with a spring in his step, sliding around the counter. "How was school, Kes?"

"Okay," she replied through a mouthful of cookies. "We had a presentation on saying no to drugs after lunch, but nothing interesting.

Marik raised an eyebrow. "You're in first grade. They're already starting you on that shit?"

Kesi shrugged. "Oh and we sang some Christmas songs in music class."

"Christmas, huh?" He murmured disinterestedly, pouring himself a glass of wine."And how was that?"

"Fun!" She stared down at her snack thoughtfully, stirring the milk with a cookie. "Daddy, why don't we celebrate Christmas?"

Marik paused. "Well, it's not our religion," he said slowly. "Technically Christmas is a religious holiday…"

"Oh," Kesi frowned. "Does that make Santa Claus a god?"

Bakura chuckled from around the corner. "Not quite," he said, swooping down and stealing a cookie from her plate, ignoring her indignant glare.

"But if it's a religion—"

"Santa doesn't have anything to do with the religion."

Marik glanced between the two of them. "How do you know so much about this?"

"My friends," Kesi replied cheerfully.

"Ryou," Bakura replied.

Kesi tossed her sippy cup into the sink. "So if Santa isn't part of the religion, then how come we don't celebrate the holiday?"

"Because we have our own holidays, Kes. Our own holidays from Egypt." Marik leaned against the counter. "Why are you pushing this?"

Kesi stared right back at him. "Because those holidays don't involve presents." She said. "Or Santa Claus. Or stockings, or snow, or decorations or christmas trees or anything like that! I want to have this holiday, like the other kids in my class. Please?"

"We can give you presents—"

"Wrapped up in shiny paper? That I get to open on Christmas morning?" Her eyes were wide as saucers as she looked from Marik to Bakura. "Please, can't we just try it out? Even if it's just for this year?"

Her fathers exchanged uneasy looks. "I dunno, Kesi," Marik murmured. "Christmas sounds like a lot of work…"

"I'll do it! I'll decorate the house and the tree and everything! And I'll write my letter to Santa, and I'll—I'll—I'll bake cookies!"

"You don't know how to bake cookies," Bakura drawled. "You don't know how to use an oven."

"I'll learn! Please, Daddy? Papa?" She begged. "Please?"

Marik sighed. "If you really want to," he said slowly. "I guess we can try it."

"Yay!" Kesi cheered, jumping up and down. Marik held out a finger.

"But," he said, a smile creeping across his face. "Only if you promise to go to bed early every night between now and then." He held out a hand. "Deal?"

"Deal!" Kesi said, throwing her arms around his legs. "Thank you Daddy! Thank you!" She skipped back to her room, chants of "We're gonna have Christmas! Christmas! Christmas!" following her down the hall.

Bakura smirked at Marik, plopping down into the chair next to him. "Hope you're ready for this," he said. "Also you better get me something good."

Marik returned the look, swirling the wine around his glass. "I can already think of a few things I think you'll like. Maybe. If you're good."

He laughed, leaning up to whisper in Marik's ear.

"Well…good _enough_."


	2. Excuses in Green

Marik paused in the doorway, swirling the wine around his glass. "Bakura, can you tell me if you see anything wrong with the tree?"

Bakura didn't look up from his book. "It's fine."

A scowl. "No, I mean look at it from back here."

"I'm busy." Bakura retorted, flipping the page demonstratively.

Marik reached up, ripping the taped decoration off the doorframe and storming over to the armchair. "Do you know what this is?" He asked, dangling the mistletoe in front of his face.

Bakura smirked. "It's an excuse." he replied, setting his book down on the table. "One that I don't need." He grabbed a fistful of Marik's shirt and pulled him close, mouth slamming against his. Marik draped an arm around his neck, mistletoe still dangling from his outstretched fingers. As he pulled back for breath, he smiled slyly. Sometimes it was nice to have an excuse, even an unnecessary one.


	3. Christmas Eve

It's a little late, but still Christmas. Love you all! 3

"And I heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight, merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!" Marik smiled down at Kesi's sleepy yawn. "And now it's time for you to go to sleep."

"Not tiiired," Kesi whined, snuggling down into the crook of the arm chair. "Read it again."

Bakura peered over his own book. "You know Santa can't come until you're asleep, right?"

"It's only eight o'clock though. He still has all night!"

"And the whole world to go through," Marik added. "You wait too long and he won't come at all."

Kesi scowled. "Fine then. Can we at least put out cookies for him?"

Bakura smiled. "I'm sure he'd appreciate that." He nodded towards the kitchen. "You know where they are."

"Oy," Marik growled. "Go help her. I'm not spending Christmas Eve picking up little pieces of cookie jar, asshole."

Bakura rolled his eyes and followed her, pulling the jar down from the counter and setting it down on the table. "You going to give him milk, too?

"And coffee," Kesi said, arranging oreos around the outer edge of the plate. "He has to stay awake for all those kids, doesn't he?"

"I suppose he does." Bakura leaned against the counter. "Do you know how to make coffee?"

Kesi shrugged. "I can figure it out."

He poured out the last batch and rinsed out the pot. "I think I might be able to help you, just concentrate on the cookies."

And concentrate she did, carefully placing cookies around the plate. She grabbed a candy cane and stuck it artfully into a doughy sugar cookie that Marik had helped her with just that morning. "Just one more thing….don't eat any of them, Papa!"

She scampered back to her room and came running back with paper and crayons. Marik smiled, setting the newspaper aside and moseying out to join Bakura.

"You going to draw Santa a picture?" He asked, sitting down in his usual chair. "What are you going to draw?"

"I'm gonna write him a letter," Kesi said, scrawling out 'Dear Santa' in her five year old scribble. "So he knows these cookies are for him."

Marik smiled knowingly. "I think that'll work out well." He crossed over to the coffee maker, wrapping an arm around Bakura's waist. "You made enough for two, right?"

"Of course," he murmured, dividing it between the mugs. "Do you think Santa would like cream and sugar, Kes?"

"Uh-huh. Lots and lots!"  
He pushed the sugar towards Marik, who doled it out accordingly. With a glance at Kesi, he reached for the bottle of whiskey and poured a splash into both cups.

"There!" She read over the short note quickly and set it on top of the cookies. "Can you get the coffee?"

She headed back to the living room, carefully setting the cookies on the fireplace hearth. Stifling a yawn, she smiled, looking from the tree to the cookies, to her stocking hanging from the mantle.

"All good then?"

"Yeah," Kesi smiled, turning and wrapping her arms around Marik's neck. "Merry Christmas, Daddy. Merry Christmas, Papa."

Bakura nodded. "Merry Christmas, kid. Go get some sleep now, go on."

As Marik carried her back to her bedroom, Bakura settled back in his chair, sipping his coffee and closing his eyes. The room was thick with the sent of pine needles and the lingering smell of cookies. The fire was only embers in their fireplace, sending a warmth throughout the room. He sighed.

"I think she'll sleep well tonight," Marik said, plopping down beside him. "All the cookies and shopping wore her out, I think."

"Good." He could feel Marik watching him out of the corner of his eye.

"You're uncomfortable," he murmured, hooking an arm around his shoulders.

Bakura shrugged. "How," he said slowly. "Did we come to live in such a disgustingly cozy place?"

Marik laughed. "It takes some getting used to…but why shouldn't we live in comfort? Especially for Kesi…" He leaned over and kissed him slowly. "And I think we should enjoy it, don't you?" He pulled Bakura to his feet, smiling. "If you help me bring out her presents, maybe I'll give you one of yours early….one that requires a demonstration."

Bakura chortled under his breath. "I think I can get behind that."


End file.
